


The First Time

by icebucky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, F/M, M/M, Peggy's POV, Steggy - Freeform, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icebucky/pseuds/icebucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy Carter realizes something in the first few times she sees Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes together again during the war.</p>
<p>Peggy's POV, touches on both stucky and steggy</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I was in a stucky/steggy mood, so here's my shit written during school. I hope you like it, and thanks for reading!

She knew, the first time she saw them together.

Well, not the first time. The first time had been right after the gates had opened and Steve had walked in, followed by a hundred men who he had single-handedly snatched from the mouth of death, a set to his jaw and a glint in his eye. Peggy hadn't noticed the man walking next to him, who kept glancing at Steve every so often, because her heart and stomach were fluttering with the relief that would hit her every time she realized that Steve was still alive.

She had pushed her way to the center of the crowd of men, and she had no words for how  _proud_ of him that she was, and for the satisfaction she felt from seeing him successful. Every time she looked at him, she knew her faith in him had not been misplaced;  _Steve may actually be the best man on this planet,_ she thought, surging forward upon his return. Not a day went by that she didn't feel exponentially relieved that Colonel Phillips had approved Steve for Project Rebirth.

Steve was a good man, perhaps the best man, but she knew next to nothing about the man standing next to him, who called for the crowd's appreciation of Captain America.

It was only later that she realized that he was James Buchanan Barnes, the sole reason that Steve had ventured behind enemy lines and  _succeeded_.

The first time she saw them together held little significance for Peggy's assessment of Bucky, because of her tight focus on Steve, but the second time she saw them together was entirely different.

It was a few days later, and the entire 107th had gotten the night off to get plastered in the only bar around. After deciding to make an appearance (she was an agent of the SSR who was key in Steve's career; it was only fitting), Peggy brought out the only non-uniform outfit that she had with her: that bloody red dress that she knew would earn her lewd comments from men who she could take out.

Still, this was to support the actually good men who had come back, especially Steve. 

Steve. Her stomach jumped a little, but she swallowed it down, shimmying into her dress and checking her hair and makeup before walking to the bar.

No surprise, but Peggy was one of the only women there, except for the few who hovered around some of the weaker-willed men (Howard Stark included). She lifted her chin and ignored the appreciative stares following her, her target set as she locked her eyes on Steve's broad shoulders.

He was standing at the bar, talking to his friend. James Barnes.  _Bucky_ , she corrected. Steve called him Bucky. 

Peggy was still far enough away that neither of the young men had noticed her, but she was able to pick up on several things.

Bucky was leaning on the countertop, hands clasped, a drink in front of him, looking up at Steve. He had a semi-permanent expression of disbelief on his face, countered by a certain set to his jaw that told Peggy that he was one of those boys who would be more inclined to do something as soon as you told him not to. He was a New Yorker, she could see it in his eyes and his legs and the way he held himself; Bucky was Brooklyn like Steve, and no amount of Hydra torture would take that from him.

Steve was standing next to him, his torso inches from Bucky's left shoulder, but reading too much into that alone would be ridiculous, Peggy knew. The building was crowded and loud, and they had to stand closely to even hear each other. But Steve looked at Bucky with such utter and affection that to Peggy, who was practiced in reading the emotions of men and using that to her advantage, it was a beacon.

There was something about them, almost tangible; she could see it flowing between them as she neared and their eyes met. It was serious, whatever they were speaking about, but then Bucky cracked a small smile, and Steve's grin exploded in the dark room.

She knew that smile. Sometimes he had it when he looked at her. It was the smile of a man who's in love and doesn't know it.

At that moment, Bucky turned slightly and saw Peggy, his eyes widening and his smile falling for half a second before doubling into the wolfish grin of someone with a target. Steve, on the other hand, straightened up more than he already was, his face slack until he smiled shyly and stepped forward to greet her.

They were still standing a little too close together, she noted, the corner of her mouth twitching up.

The conversation wasn't as important as the body language, she realized later. Peggy had been almost exclusively speaking to Steve, but was acutely aware of Bucky's eyes darting between them, looking at Steve looking at Peggy. They kept shifting, shoulders bumping at one point, grinning and speaking politely to her, Steve dropping "ma'am"s into the conversation and Bucky's smirk so contagious that she had to restrain herself from falling into the same enthusiasm. She liked them, she admitted to herself; she wanted to spend hours talking to them for their dynamic and how they were individually. Steve was the sun, he was brilliant and golden and impossible to ignore; and Bucky was the moon, graceful and beautiful but distant, almost like he would fade and disappear on them. Together, they lit the night.

They were opposites and complements, even in how their appearances used to parallel, but now they were more similar, in constant orbit with each other. Whatever feelings Steve may have had for Peggy would pale in comparison to the way he was with Bucky.

The thought didn't make her sad; she could see from the way Steve looked at her that he  _did_ have feelings for her, but he was far more focused on his job than he could possibly be on her. After the war, maybe. But never now.

Bucky was now.

She had finished speaking to them and departed, not wishing to stay and be stared at by men she was supremely uninterested in. In the mirror on the corner she could see Bucky leaning in to whisper something to Steve, and she knew.

It was only the second time she had seen them together, but she knew.

They were in love, a kind of love that was rarely seen, because of the pure interaction and fluid dynamic that they had. _They could be so damn good together_ , she thought ruefully as she walked away, but in this world of fear and suspicion, the chance of people letting them be happy was devastatingly low.

They were in love, but Peggy Carter knew from experience that love was not fair, and the world did not perform miracles when you asked for them. And she wanted to change this, the fact that they were in love but couldn't be happy, she wanted what was best for these boys who had had so much taken from them, but she was incapable of doing anything. The most she could do was her duty.

Captain America would be proud.


End file.
